A Differenter Shade of Fifty
by ELNotJames
Summary: What if Christian had met Ana in college? And what would Elena, the woman who made Christian all he is, feel about this relationship? Several things have been changed to fit the story, i.e. their ages. Be prepared for other couplings, most should be expected. Mature Content warning for this and future chapters. All characters belong to E.L. James.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Hello, Christian Grey's phone," a voice says hesitantly. I pause. This is Christian's phone, but not Christians voice. It sounded like a young woman. Who was she, answering Christian's phone? "Hello?" The voice asks again.

"Who is this?" I ask coolly.

"This is Anastasia Steele, I'm Christian's um... Neighbor." His neighbor? His very female sounding neighbor, Anastasia Steele, left alone with his phone, at what would be midnight now in Boston.

"And where is Christian?" That boy is never without his phone, he knows the rules.

"He's in the shower." Anastasia says. I can feel my skin grow hot as my anger swells like a flame into a fire. What was this? The boy has been gone just a few days, and already he was bringing girls to his room in the middle of the night? What was she doing there?

What _else_ would she be doing there this late? Barely out of sight and already Christian had broken the contract.

"Tell him to call me back, immediately." I say, keeping my voice as level as I'm able. I click the "end call" button, toss my BlackBerry onto the glass coffee table in front of me, and pick up a large glass of Chardonnay instead. Leaning back, I drum my newly manicured nails on the armrest. I was planning on heading to Boston this week and had wanted to look my best. But now…

What was he thinking? He knows he's mine, only mine. As I look out the glass doors to our backyard, I admire the pool and garden illuminated by hundreds of soft white lights. It had been nearly four years since Christian had been sent over by Grace to help dig that garden and install those lights. Nearly four years since I had made him mine. Like tonight, Andrew had been away on a business trip.

"Hey, Mrs. Lincoln," Christian said when I opened the door. "Mom says you're doling out my punishment today." Grace had arranged for Christian to come over this day and work on my back lawn. He had just been kicked out of his school for fighting, and Grace had hoped some manual labor would knock some sense into the boy. Only a high school sophomore, it already looked as though Christian was heading from the class room straight to a correctional facility.

"I have hours of torture planned for you, pet. Come right in." As he passed me I realized just how much the boy had grown recently. Christian was beautiful, angelic even, as he stood there in a pair of ripped Diesel jeans and a white T-shirt. He was already taller than I, and through his tight fitting shirt I could make out the faint lines of newly forming muscles. I knew just how to give those muscles a good workout.

"Head on out to the back, Christian. I've got land in need of 'scaping and you are just the man for the job."

"Great," he groaned.

It was humid, and the sun made a rare appearance as Christian labored in the yard, digging in what would soon be a garden. His shirt soaked in sweat, he pulled it off and tucked it in his back pocket. Now I could actually see those new muscles as they glinted in the sun. Bringing him a glass of lemonade, I walked into the yard.

"Hey, Christian!" I called. Turning to look at me, the large rock he was moving slipped from his arms and landed on his foot.

"Fuck!" Christian screamed. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Christian!" I yelled at him. "Calm down, and stop screaming like that out here. They'll hear you all the way across the Sound."

"Why?" He spat at me. "I'm sick of this shit anyway. Fuck this punishment, fuck your neighbors, and fuck you!" My hand cracked like a whip as it made contact with Christian's sharp cheek bone. He stopped yelling.

"Now," I said, staring into his icy gaze. "Your mother sent you here to learn some discipline, and I promised her I would teach you. You will learn to harness that temper of yours. These last few years, you've done nothing but hurt yourself, with the drinking, the fighting, getting expelled. Rather than fighting with me let me help you, Christian."

"And how the hell do you think you can help me?"

Sliding my hand to the nape of his neck, I grabbed Christian by the hair and forced his soft lips onto mine. He didn't struggle as I bit his lower lip just enough to taste his salty-sweet blood. Once I finally pulled away he gasped for air. Smiling, I handed him the cold lemonade, wet from condensation.

"I think it's time to call it a day. Come back tomorrow for a proper lesson in discipline, Christian. For now work on your restraint and keep this between us." Christian said nothing, simply staring back at me, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Turning away, I walked back into the house. It wasn't long before I heard Christian leave. I began his training the next day.

The knock at the door was a hesitant _bang... Bang, bang_. I smiled at the sound. It was adorable, even his knock was nervous.

"Come in!" I yelled, as I adjusted my long, red silk robe. The knob slowly turned and the door creaked open.

"He-hello? Mrs. Lincoln?" Christian called as his face appeared from behind the door.

"I'm here, Christian." I replied. He stepped into the dark foyer. The lights were dimmed, and I had closed all the house curtains so no wandering eyes could spy on the lessons I had planned for Christian. Besides, this light was my most flattering. Andrew liked to say I had a flair for the dramatic, and looking around at the scene I had set I guessed it was true. "Come in, pet. Are you ready to learn some discipline?"

"S-sure?" His voice cracked.

"This way." I said, turning down the hall, my robe fluttering behind me as I walked. Christian quickly followed. The keys in my hand jingled as I unlocked the basement door, and we descended into the darkness. Once we reached the bottom I flipped on the light. Christian looked frantically around the room.

"Do you like it?" I asked, lightly running my fingers along the red painted walls. His eyes flashed from the large bed at the room's far end, covered in black, silk sheets, to the racks on the walls holding an assortment of rods, chains, and floggers.

"The fuck is all of this?" He said. I smiled at him, and then once more slapped him-hard. "Damn it! Why do you keep doing that?" He yelled, cradling his cheek.

"Because, Christian, you need it." I answered. "I've known you since you were a boy. You're smart, Christian, brilliant even. But you lack control, and that keeps leading you to do stupid things." He tried to look away from me as I spoke, but I grabbed his chin and forced his eyes to meet mine. "I see greatness in you, but you will end up in prison or dead if you keep this up. A waste-like that crack whore who gave birth to you." His jaw quivered with rage as he scowled back at me.

"The counseling, all the psychologists, even your poor parents haven't been able to help you, because they don't understand you." I brought my hand to his chest, but before I could touch the black Bruce Springsteen T-shirt he caught my wrist. "That anxiety, that anger, wouldn't it be wonderful to have an outlet? A way to channel it all? I can save you, Christian." I finished softly. The boy's breath was uneven as he answered.

"How?"

He was mine.

"We will start with the basics," I said. We released each other and I leisurely strolled around the large room. "You're a smart boy, what do you know about BDSM?" He squirmed as he spoke.

"Just a few things I've seen on the Internet. They're the ones that use the handcuffs and whips and stuff, right?" I chuckled. It was amazing how ignorant people still were in this Age of Information.

"Well, yes, Bondage is part of it. Then there is Domination, Sadism, and Masochism. It's the ultimate release." I stopped, pulled the sash of my robe off and wrapped it tightly around my hands. The robe fell open, revealing my black bra and split-crotch panty garter set. Every woman needs her special "power suit." Christian looked me up and down. "But what it really all comes down to is control. Having it, and learning how to surrender it completely to another person. Your problem, Christian, is that you lack control, and don't know how to master yourself."

"So you're going to, what, beat it into me?" He said with a sneer.

"Exactly." He eyed the belt in my hands as I snapped it between them. "I'm what you would call a Dominant. I exercise control in all things. And I'm offering to make you my Submissive."

"Your 'bitch' you mean." He scoffed.

"Of course not," I said. "A bitch is weak. A bitch whines about the problems in their life instead of doing something about them. A bitch fears pain and so it runs from it with drinking, or drugs, rather than embracing it. I don't want to make you my bitch, Christian. I want to make you strong. I _will_ make you strong. I will help you become the man you need to be." I placed my hand on the front of his jeans. He tensed, but he did not not move to stop me this time. I could feel his excitement growing. "You will enjoy it." I whispered into his ear.

He grabbed me by the shoulders and shoved me into the wall. Our teeth clinked as he pressed his lips back onto mine. They were moist, too wet even. It felt like he was drooling on me. Dear lord, had this boy ever even kissed someone before? His hands began to grab desperately at my breasts. This time I held him by the wrists, and pushed him away. He stepped back, looking confused.

"You don't actually know how to do any of this, do you?" I said.

"Of course I do!" He yelled. "I-I mean, I know plenty." I cocked my eyebrow.

"Is anything you know not from a video hidden on your computer?"

"Wa-was that not good?" His pale cheeks flushed as he looked back sheepishly. He was truly innocent. Even with his piercing, gray eyes, and chiseled jawline, Christian was completely inexperienced. It was perfect.

"Oh, pet." I laughed, stepping towards him. He stepped back. "No one is good their first time. But fear not. All you need is a bit of training."

"Mrs. Lincoln, I'm not so-"

"Shhh..." I said, bringing my finger to his lips. "Call me Ma'am." I gracefully dropped to my knees on the cool cement floor, and moved my hands up his thighs to the button at the top of his jeans. It popped open with a flick of my wrist. Christian's eyes grew wide as dinner plates as he stared down at me. He looked ridiculous gawking at me like that, but I could hardly blame the boy. Few could even imagine being so lucky.

I was quite lucky as well I realized as I pulled down his zipper. Though new to the sport, his equipment was top quality. He shivered with pleasure at my touch, and a soft moan escaped his lips as I swallowed him, not quite wholly.

Christian laced his fingers into my hair and gripped tightly as I slowly bobbed my head. I could hear his breathing become ragged as I increased my pace. Christian's knees began to shake.

"M-Mrs. L-Lincoln-" he gasped, and I stopped, biting down slightly. "Ow!" He yelled, releasing me and pulling away.

"I told you," I said, coming to a stand, "to call me Ma'am. A Submissive who disobeys his orders will be punished." Christian just looked back at me. His mouth was moving but he seemed unable to form any words. "Now strip." He stared blankly. "Now!"

Christian pulled his shirt over his head, and dropped his pants to the floor. He was a young Adonis. All that fighting had helped tone his form. That was good-he was going to need the endurance, and a decent pain tolerance.

"Now, get on the bed." Christian immediately turned and hurried to the bed. From the pocket of my robe I fished out a gold packet. "Do you know how to use one of these?" He shook his head. The education system was failing our youth terribly. "Lie back, hands over your head." Leaning back he put his hands up, grabbing the iron rod headboard behind him.

I crawled on top of him, my legs straddling his. Bringing the robe sash to his hands, I wrapped them tightly and fastened them to the headboard. I pulled hard to ensure he wouldn't be able to wriggle free from the bonds. Sitting atop him I tore into the small, square wrapper and pulled out the little rubber circle.

"It's important to remember to always be safe, pet. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, Mrs-Ma'am." He said, nodding. I rolled the liner down to the base of his cock. His breath caught each time I gave it a light squeeze.

"Lesson one: the safe words." I said. "'No' and 'stop' mean nothing, remember that. When you're approaching your pain limit say, 'yellow'. If you want me to stop, really want me to, say 'red'. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good boy," I said, lightly slapping his cheek. I slid myself onto him.

"Holy fuck!" Christian moaned. A shock of pleasure ripped through me as his hips bucked. I remained still for a moment, feeling him twitch inside. Slowly, I began rocking my hips back and forth. Back and forth. Back and- "Fuck!" Christian cried.

His hips bucked once more and his whole body gave a violent shudder. He relaxed, panting heavily. So much for endurance.

But I'd helped him increase that endurance over the last four years. Christian didn't need a little blue pill to keep hard for three hours or more. I trained him, molded him into the perfect lover. He was my masterpiece. It was intoxicating to be someone's one and only.

And that's exactly what the contract he signed just three weeks after that first day stipulated. Christian was to be mine, exclusively. But now he was across the country, entertaining strange girls in the middle of the night. Christian was 19, I should have known he couldn't be trusted on his own. And who was this Anastasia Steele? Perhaps I should have someone look into her? Christian was now a master in the carnal arts, thanks to me, but he was still naive in the ways of women. It would be best for me to investigate this "neighbor" to ensure Christian was in no danger. Who knew what Miss Steele's intentions were? A humming pulled me from my thoughts.

The phone, still laying on the table, was lit up and vibrating. Picking it up I check the caller I.D. The screen flashes: Christian Grey. I click "answer" and hold the phone to my ear.

"Hello, Christian."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"It's so nice to have you over, Elena. It seems like it's been ages since it's been just the two of us." Grace says, as she sets a cup of coffee down in front of me with a smile.

"I have been sorely missing our 'girl time,' Grace." I reply. "Carrick and Andrew always seem to need so much attention."

"Men," Grace sighed. "They're just so helpless without us."

"It's because they never really grow up." I say, taking a sip of the hot drink. Dark and bitter, just how I like it. "All men are just little lost boys in disguise. Every single one of them suffering from _Peter Pan Syndrome_. It's why women were put on this earth, Grace, to whip them into shape."

"Ha!" Grace scoffs. "If that isn't the truth. Though it seems like some of our hard work is finally paying off. Andrew and Carrick may be beyond our help, but at least Christian and Elliot seem to be on the right track-as much as some may complain about it."

 _The right track._ Is that what Christian was on right now? Rotting away in that overpriced Ivy League daycare center, memorizing useless facts about John Wilmot's drinking habits, and chatting up repressed little girls hoping to get their first few dorm room scandals out of the way. Grace meant well for her children, no one could deny that, but this was hardly the _right track_ for someone like Christian. I had already given him direction, purpose, and a strict sense of discipline needed to apply himself in the real world. Sending him to school was nothing but a waste of the boy's time-no matter how prodigious the name on that scrap of paper may be.

"How are the boys?" I ask.

"Oh well, Elliot seems to be doing fantastically." Grace began. "He just got his first patent! It's some sort of engine that runs off of nitrogen-Carrick could probably explain it better, but Elliot seems convinced this will be revolutionary. He even seems to have a new girl in his life. She's lasted longer than a month, so it must be love."

"Is that so? And who is this young woman who's captured Elliot's heart?"

"Her name is Kate I believe. She's from our end of the country in fact. Raised just over on Mercer Island. Her family is independently wealthy as well. Her father is some big muckety-muck in the publishing business."

"Well, that's always good to hear." I reply. "It's so difficult nowadays for young people to find a partner of good quality. This generation is so interested in getting rich quick, or famous, it's dangerous. You never seem to be able to know a person's true intentions."

"Yes," Grace sighed. "It seems that the romance of our age is all but gone. But hearing how positively giddy Elliot is about this Kate gives me hope. Now if Christian could just find someone like that." My jaw tensed slightly at Grace's words. The poor woman. As devoted as she was to her children she knew absolutely nothing about Christian. The boy could not survive in a lovey-dovey relationship popularized by pop culture. He needed a strong hand to guide him. He could only survive in the dark. I understood that, and that was why I had been able to pull him back from his self destructive brink. Lasting relationships were not built on this silly, frilly, "love" people chased. That was nothing but infatuation. It was fleeting. They were built on understanding. I understood Christian, and that is why he has faithfully been mine these last four years.

"So," I asked, taking another swig of my coffee. "There are no prospects for our dark prince?"

"Unfortunately not as of yet it seems." Grace sighed once more. _Good_. "You know Christian, he's never showed much interest in girls growing up." I forced my cup to my lips to hide the grin spreading across them. He had showed _very much_ interest since I'd taken up with him. "I've actually wondered if perhaps we just are expecting the wrong things from him? We're all waiting for that day he comes home with a girl on his arm, but maybe he never has because Christian is looking for the right man instead?" I snort into my drink, nearly drowning myself at the statement. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes," I say, grabbing a gray napkin from the table to dab my face with. "You just caught me off guard. Do you really think so? Christian never struck me as possibly gay."

"Well, I just don't know, to be honest." She replies. "I just want Christian to be happy, and I worry a bit that if that's the case he may feel he has to hide that from us." Christian has many secrets about his private life, but I know this is definitely not one of them.

"Don't fret, Grace." I coo, placing my hand on her shoulder. "Remember how worried you were about him when he was in high school? You and Carrick were certain he would be in juvie before he was 16 and then off to prison from there, and now look at him. Christian is a little colder than most, a little more reserved, but he has become a fine young man. A Harvard man, even."

"You're right," Grace says, bringing her hand up to clutch mine. Her eyes are glossy with tears of gratitude. "And you seemed to be such a big part of that. I honestly don't know how I can thank you."

"No need, Grace. It was my pleasure." Indeed. "Andrew and I love you all, it's as if you are our own family. How could I not help? So don't worry too much about Christian, he will be just fine."

"Of course," Grace says, wiping a tear from her eye. "And who knows? Maybe he'll find that love at Harvard, just like Elliot did."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, yes, that Kate girl, Elliot met her while visiting Christian at school last month."

"Is that so?" First Christian's mysterious neighbor, now Elliot's new love... Harvard seemed to be quite the pickup scene. It's a wonder when any studying actually gets done.

"Yes, in fact she has a roommate Elliot mentioned. An Anna something. Ha! Wouldn't it be fantastic if Elliot or Kate could set them up?"

Anna… Ana? Could this be the same Anastasia Steele who had answered my call that night? I bite the inside of my cheek as I contemplate the notion. There was no need to be nervous. I gave Christian strict orders on Anastasia Steele at our last little meeting.

He knelt by the door, naked, as I walked into the hotel room I had reserved for our meeting. His eyes were obediently fixed on his knees as I strode past him with my well packed suitcase. He remained still as I yanked the case up onto the bed and quickly zipped it open to reveal my toys. My lips curled into a slight smirk as my newly manicured fingers brushed over them. So many things to try.

"You can get up," I say to him. Christian slowly rose from his position on the floor. "Come here."

Eyes still focused on the ground, Christan moved towards me. He already knew what was in store. Well… he had an idea. He had violated the rules and that meant only one thing.

"Lift your arms over your head and do not move them," I commanded. He obeyed without a word. Once his arms were raised I turned to grab the chastity cage from my suitcase. Christian's body tensed slightly as his eyes noticed the contraption. He had never exactly been a fan of this part in his training. I had to bite my tongue to keep from letting out a small laugh at the furrow that formed in his brow as I dropped down to fasten it over his cock. He was not allowed to get an erection until I commanded it of him, and the visible effort it was taking to keep himself under control was amusing-and enticing. I could feel my nipples harden under my blouse at the flashes of desire behind his focused eyes.

"Mmm," I hummed as I rose back to face him, sliding the cage's small silver key into my bra. The cool metal against my skin only heightened my arousal. "That's better, don't you think?"

"If it pleases you," Christian said, in his quiet, monotone voice.

"Lie down on the bed," I told him, and Christian obeyed without hesitation. Good boy. I always loved this part, the ritual of setting the scene.

Once Christian was in place, I pulled out the nylon cords I had bought specially for this-new, and extra strong. Christian's eyes were still bowed as I secured him to the headboard, and then fastened his legs, spread eagled, to the posts at the bed's end. I gave each knot a little extra tug, just enough that I knew the unwarn ties would be rubbing his skin slightly raw. With Christian bound and helpless, and silent, I returned to unpack the rest of my wares.

I fished out several candles and arranged them on the bedside table. Then with a strike of a match I lit each one. The spiced scent of the flames filled the room as I threw my leg over Christian to straddle him, my lips descending on his. There was no fight in him as he acquiesced to the rhythm of my tongue.

No, Christian, you are not going to get out of what you are owed by simply playing the puppet. My hand made its way to his thick, silky hair and I roughly grabbed it by the roots. He tensed once more as I pulled away from him.

"You're going to be punished," I breathed. "But I haven't quite decided how severely. Would you like a chance to persuade me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a slight gasp. His self control seemed to have waned in my absence.

"But," I continued with a fake pout, "you're all tied up. What do you intend to do?"

"Would my mouth please you?" He asked. I smiled at his suggestion-the boy knew exactly how I liked to begin.

"Yes, I think your mouth will do just fine."

I slowly removed my blouse to reveal my red satin bra. Christian's pupils dilated as he took in the view. A wonderful purchase, I had to admit. I already had an ample, and firm bosom, but there is nothing better for a woman's confidence than a brassiere that accentuated her assets. I stepped off Christin to remove my black pencil skirt, and exposed my matching pantis. My fingers quickly hooked in the waistband and slid the already damp garment down my legs, and I tossed them aside. Still in my red patent leather pumps, I slithered over Christian's warm body and positioned myself over his mouth.

He arched his head up slightly, and a ripple of pleasure rolled through my body as the tip of his nose just barely brushed against my vulva. My thighs went taut as his warm breath bathed me, and his lips met my clitorus. A low growl escaped my throat as he began to suck on the tender tissue. I felt his tongue begin to explore me at the approving sound, and I relaxed myself over him to allow better access.

I could feel it darting in and out of me, before gliding along my lips, and circling my clitorus. My body temperature rose as Christian worked, and shocks of gratification ran through me-my breathing ragged.

"Ah!" I cried as he suddenly nipped me, hard. God damn, he had certainly taken my lessons to heart. He became more and more aggressive at my show of enjoyment, eating me like a wolf does its prey. My hips started to move on their own volition, grinding against Christian's mouth, hoping for more and more of his wet, and dexterous tongue to slide inside of me.

"Yes!" I screamed, driving my nails into his skin underneath me to edge him on. "Just like that."

He bit down once more on my clitorus and I exploded, my pleasure rocketing through every nerve in my body.

I'm not sure how long I allowed myself to bask in my ecstasy, but once I regained the ability to move, I collapsed next to Christian on the bed. I panted heavily as I tried to catch my breath. Apparently my self control had waned in his absence as well. Christian would surely be expecting some kind of reward at my display. Little shit.

I quickly pulled myself together and moved to lap my orgasm from Christian's chin, and roughly kissed him. He moaned into my mouth, and I smiled. Not yet, Christian. I'm hardly done with you.

"Tell me about the girl," I whispered against him.

Christian went stiff. He knew he was in trouble. But why should he feel he was in trouble, unless he was, in fact, hiding something? I could feel the euphoria that had flooded me quickly being drowned out by rage, which only grew stronger at each second Christian remained quiet. He was making a decision. I could almost see his thoughts-weighing the options of telling me the truth or attempting to lie.

"What girl?"

The smile fell from my face as I stared coldly back into his eyes. They were clouded by fear.

"You're a smart young man, Christian," I replied. "Do not play stupid with me. _The_ girl. The girl you had in your room. The girl who answered the phone when I called. Anastasia Steele." I could feel him tremble slightly as my scarlet nails ran up his sternum. The more I unnerved him the harder it would be for him to lie.

"I've told you," he continued through clenched teeth, "She lives across the hall from me. She was waiting in my room while Elliot fucked her roommate."

With a sigh I slid off the bed to reinspect my suitcase. Sitting right at the top was my very favorite accessory: my leather strap flogger. Christian gave an audible gulp as I pulled it from the case and fingered it.

Yes, Christian, this is going to hurt.

I lifted it high above my head, and slammed it, hard, onto Christian's chest. He grunted in pain as the leather tore at his skin.

One. Before the boy could catch his breath I whipped my arm back up and down.

Two. The skin was already growing an angry red at the flogger's touch.

Three. His gasps grew louder as his nerves started to grow raw.

Four. He started to writhe slightly, but my just-too-tight knots held him firm.

Five. You knew this would happen, Christian. You have to be punished. How else will you learn right from wrong?

Six. A white hot shock of pleasure ripped through me as his beautiful face contorted into a grotesque mask of pain, somehow even more beautiful in its horror.

Seven.

I stopped. Christian's breaths came in short fragmented gasps, as I draped the straps over his shoulder.

"Why don't we try again?" I said. "I'll be clearer this time. Do you think it's appropriate to have a girl in your room at all, regardless of what Elliot is doing to her roommate?"

"Nothing happened," he spat, the desperation in his voice betraying his lie.

Immediately I grabbed the lash and struck him once more. I could see his eyes light up as the pain morphed into pleasure for him.

"I've known you a long time, Christian. I know when you're upset, I know when you're happy, I know when you're just about at your pain limit… and I know when you're lying to me.

"I didn't fuck her," he said.

"So what did you do?" I asked. Finally, we were getting somewhere.

"Nothing. I told you, I was doing homework."

I whipped him. Again. Again. And again. Christian sucked at his lips to keep himself from crying out as the flesh on his chest began to swell from the flogger's continuous caress. The strain brought a glisten to his skin as he started to sweat. The boy had always had an extremely high tolerance for pain. He'd never even safe worded. Not once.

Perhaps now was time to truly test that limit.

"What did you do, Christian?" I asked again.

"Nothing! Nothing happened."

"You never make this easy, do you?" I said, shaking my head. Throwing the flogger down, I snatched a candle from the bedside table. I watched as his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as I tilted the candle. A single drop of molten wax splashed down on Christian's already brutalized chest. The slight writhing became a panicked struggle. Christian pulled at his restraints, his body acting on its own. He had a fear of fire, and being burned. That whore who'd birthed him had let her junkie fucks put cigarettes out on his skin. Even as I looked at his bare chest, under the welts, and wax I could see the scars of those poorly healed wounds.

"Fuck!" He screamed as I tipped the candle once more.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," I clicked my tongue at him. He'd be unable to lie at this threat. "Tell me, Christian. Tell me everything that happened."

Christian's eyes darted around, as he looked for some escape. There was no escape from this punishment, Christian. The drip drip drip of the wax became a torrent of burning liquid spilling onto him.

"I kissed her!" he screamed. I stopped. Not to reward him, he deserved nothing but punishment, but out of a moment of shock.

He'd kissed her. He'd actually admitted he had kissed this "girl from across the hall." Anastasia Steele. Christian shivered in terror as I stared back at him. He was waiting for something, anything. He knew he was going to be punished beyond anything he'd experienced yet. His eyes followed me as I reached up and pulled the cord that bound his hands loose. He remained still, a confused look on his face as I moved to free his legs as well.

"Get up," I told him. He immediately jumped to his feet. "Turn around and put your hands on the wall." He did so without protest.

As he stared at the wall I pulled my small cane from my bag. He flinched as I stroked his back with it. The fear I was able to draw from him at these moments was intoxicating-better than any drug out there.

"Who do you belong to?" I said softly.

"You."

"What is the first rule?" I asked.

"I will obey you and submit to any sexual activity or punishment you deem necessary, or pleasurable, eagerly and without hesitation." He answered.

"And what happens when you break the rules?" I said, pressing the cane into his back.

"Failure to comply with the rules will result in immediate punishment."

"So you agree," I said to him, "that you deserve this?"

He took a long, deep breath. "Yes."

"Good," I said, but without any of my usual humor. "Then I'm going to hit you twelve times."

"If it pleases you." He said. I brushed my cane lightly against him once more, and watched as the muscles in his toned back each tried to relax, readying itself for the blows.

There was a sharp whistle as the cane sang through the air, ending with an abrupt _thump_ on Christian's back. But Christian stayed silent.

It takes one, two, three more blows before the pain overcomes his ability to hold back his grunts. By the eighth blow his red welts started becoming a deep purple. I hit him even harder, grunting myself as I put all my weight into wielding the cane. _Nine. Ten. Elven. Twelve._

Sweat ran down his back as he stood with his hands still against the wall. And still no safe word. I could feel my blood positively boiling at the lack of it, with rage but also desire. There was nothing more I wanted to do than break Christian Grey, but his strength was not only his greatest attribute, but my accomplishment. When he came to me he was weak, and unfocused. It was me who built his endurance and taught him to control himself. He did belong to me. Every single atom in his body had been molded by me to form this masterpiece.

"Get- on the bed-," I told him through labored breathing. He all but ran to it as I threw the cane down on the mattress. Fine, if pain won't break him perhaps the desire for pleasure will.

From my suitcase I lift out my large rubber strap-on. Christian looked at it dubiously, probably thinking I meant to use it on him. But instead I clipped it around his waist, threw my leg over him, and lowered myself down onto the erect rubber mold. His eyes and mouth were wide with horror as he watched me grind myself against him, moaning loudly, but receiving none of the pleasure.

The more violent my thrusts became, the more Christian attempted to touch me, but I slapped his hands away. His cock would be aching now, trapped in that cage, and harder than he'd ever been in his life. He gasped in pain, which only spurred me on as I continued to ride him. For fifteen long minutes I rocked Christian, deriving my own pleasure from his suffering, until I erupted around the cock that wasn't his. When I pulled myself from on top of him I rolled back onto the bed, panting.

"I want you to clean up and repack my bag." I said breathlessly. And, as I continued to lie on the bed, Christian got up and did as ordered. Once his task was completed I reached up, gripped him by the hair and kiss him possessively. Then, without releasing his cock from its confinement, or even looking back to acknowledge him, I walked back into my room, through our adjoining door.

He would have to spend the night with his pain and disappointment. Not just that night, the next night as well. It wasn't until Sunday that I decided to release him.

"You've pleased me," I told him, having just come once more while he was forced to simply watch. "You've done everything I've asked and done it well. I think you've suffered enough, don't you?"

"If you think so," he replied.

"Mmm," I moaned in a low sensual tone, "come here." As he walked towards me, I reached into my bra to fish out the little silver key that unlocked his cage. I slowly knelt down, clicked the lock open, and eased the cage off his member. I could see a rush of release wash over him as he was freed. I smiled at his reaction, then very gently, wrapped my mouth around him.

A desperate gasp of pleasure escaped him. Excruciatingly slowly I bobbed down, and back up, pulling off to ask him, "do you want to fuck me, Christian?"

"Yes, if it pleases you." He said, with excitement. I ran my tongue down his length, massaging the sensitive skin of his staft.

"Take me," I whispered. "You're in charge. Fuck me hard."

Immediately Christian took me by the arms and threw me onto the bed on my stomach, pulling my hips up in the air. Without any more foreplay, or ceremony he thrusted himself fully into me. Over and over again he buried himself into me to the hilt, gripping my ass. I felt his need growing as each thrust became more violent. I'd driven him beyond the limits even he thought he could go. He never needed this more, and I never wanted it more. His raw, animal power.

He slapped my ass, and the sting only heightened the pleasure of his cock inside me. He did it again, and again. Oh god, the intensity started to overwhelm me. He jerked my hair back and it sent a chill down my whole spine. I felt my walls grip around him as I came.

"Cum for me, Christian!" I begged. I needed him to cum for me, to prove he was truly mine. "Cum for me, baby."

He continued to thrust through my pleasure. It took him a few extra seconds, but finally he released into me. Good boy. Must have had more pent up need than I realized.

"Fuck!" He hissed as he came, collapsed on top of me, and rolled onto the mattress. It was amazing, and intense. I turned over to kiss him once more.

"Feel better?" I asked.

"Yes, thank you Ma'am."

As Christian tried to regain his breath I glanced at the bedside clock. "I have to leave," I pouted. "My flight is in a few hours."

"Okay," he breathed.

"Will you be sad to see me go?"

"Of course," he said, and I kissed him before ruefully rolling out of bed. Christian helped me to collect and organize my things. As I headed out the door I wrapped Christian in a tight hug, but before I turned to leave I slapped him hard across the face.

"Ah!" he cried out. "What was that for?"

"You won't see her again." I told him. "I mean it. Anastasia Steele is no longer any part of your life."

"I understand." He said.

"Good," I replied. "Because if I find out otherwise, I'll have you in that cage for a month."

And I had meant it. But now here Grace was, talking about some "Ana" and hoping Elliot would set her up with Christian.

"And what do we know of this 'Ana' exactly?" I ask Grace, taking another sip of my quickly cooling coffee. Of course it was about that damn girl. That little college slut, Anastasia Steele. What kind of name was "Anastasia Steele"? Were her parents hoping to raise a porn star? Be that as it may, there was no way in hell this little girl would be able to take Christian from me.

I taught him everything he knew. I'm the one who knew his darkest and most shameful secrets and desires. He is completely under my control. But still, it never hurts to gather information.

"Oh, unfortunately not much," Grace replies. "You know the boys. It was hard enough getting Elliot to open up about Kate, and once he did that's all he wanted to focus on. Still, a mother can dream she's just as fantastic a match for Christian that Kate seems to be for Elliot," Grace shrugs.

Damn it, Elliot is as useless as ever. Perhaps it's time for me to take another quick trip to Cambridge. Just to check in on his resolve, and remind him of his place. I refuse to have all my hard work on Christian undone by some starry-eyed co-ed, and Grace's well intentioned-but misguided-meddling. For Christian's own good, I need to kill this baby it its bed.


End file.
